


Not Gonna Bow To You

by redandglenda



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Enthusiastic Consent, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Misunderstandings, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Dynamics, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-02-01 06:35:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21420241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redandglenda/pseuds/redandglenda
Summary: Nate might be small but he’s a confident guy, on and off the ice. On the ice that means he can knock the biggest of them off their skates, and off the ice, well, let's just say he can sweep them off their feet. The only problem is that he's insanely attracted to large, built guys (with the exception of his teammates because he's not crazy) who always seem to disappoint him in bed. He likes to be the one in charge, and that’s not something guys that size are apparently into. Nate’s pretty much resigned himself to the fact that his ideal guy - big and willing to let him take the lead - just doesn’t exist.But maybe he’s just been looking in the wrong places. Or being oblivious to what’s right under his nose.
Relationships: Nate Walker/Tom Wilson
Comments: 16
Kudos: 130
Collections: ALL CAPS Exchange 2019





	Not Gonna Bow To You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AetherSeer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AetherSeer/gifts).

> Thanks to AetherSeer for the excellent prompts - I tried to get as many of your likes in as I could in the limited time I had as a pinch hitter, so I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> This takes place nominally in February 2018 if you're someone who likes specificity, but no actual games are referenced.
> 
> Content warning: If you have problems reading spouses, please be aware that Brandi Holtby has some lines in this, but isn't a major focus.

  


Nate doesn’t see the hit coming. Partly because he’s too caught up in his head about last night, and partly because it’s Devante and despite being built like a brick shithouse, he can be sneaky as fuck when he wants to. It knocks Nate off his feet from where he was innocently spacing out while waiting for his turn at the drill and he sits there for a moment sputtering after Devante as he skates away cackling. 

“Pay attention, Walks,” floats back to Nate. 

Nate grumbles, “_You_ pay attention,” under his breath as he jumps to his feet and goes to take his turn. 

On a normal day a check from Devante wouldn’t bother him because hard physical affection is how Devante shows he cares, and it’s always better to have your teammate snap you back to earth during a practice than for a coach to notice you’re miles away. Besides, Nate is always more than happy to hit back just as hard no matter how big the guy is. The problem is that Nate’s still smarting from the rejection last night so all Devante’s check feels like is confirmation that because Nate is short, bigger guys are always going to think that they can push him around. Which is stupid, because Nate is usually the one doing the pushing, which is exactly how he likes it.

Nate picked up a guy last night is the thing. It’s a thing he does sometimes, when he can get away from his nosy teammates, and for the most part a good time is had by all. If Nate keeps to his rules, nothing goes wrong: the guys he picks up must be discreet, must be able to host, and must be under 5’10”. It’s just a fact that he can’t be outed and keep playing in the NHL, and he’s living with the Holtbys while he’s in DC, hence the first two rules. The last one may seem like a ridiculous rule, but Nate’s found over many years of messing around with guys that guys over 5’10” have expectations with Nate. They seem to think that just because he’s 5’9” and noticeably smaller than them, the kind of sex they’re going to have is a foregone conclusion. It’s not that Nate never bottoms or isn’t sometimes happy to give up control, but it’s not something he’s all that into, and he’s _especially_ not into guys just assuming that he’s into being dominated with no discussion necessary.

The problem with the rules, however, is that they don’t take into account Nate’s preference for tall, built guys. Like, sue him, ever since he was young he’s been surrounded by guys who work on their bodies professionally every day, so he honestly couldn’t help developing a type. It was definitely hard as a horny teenager, but Nate has worked very hard over the years to never let his eyes linger in the locker room, to never let on that he might be something other than super straight, and that involves never letting himself pick up who he might actually want to pick up. So the rules are there to keep Nate safe from being outed and safe from disappointing encounters in bed, simple. 

While Sober Nate firmly believes in the beautiful simplicity of the rules, Drunk Nate is a little less of a firm believer, which is how Nate ended up at the apartment of a 6’2” guy last night. The guy had seemed into Nate at the bar, and he’d seemed into him when they’d been making out on the sofa, and seemed super into him when they got naked in the bedroom, but the second Nate stood his ground and didn’t let the guy push him onto the bed, the guy turned mean. Nate hadn’t even really intended to stand his ground, but muscle memory had clicked in because you don’t just let a guy check you. Nate tried to laugh it off, and got onto the bed himself, but the guy just tried it again, shoving Nate onto his belly and holding him down, like the only way he wanted to have sex with Nate is if it was very clear that he was in charge.

Nate isn’t a tragic heroine and could very well defend himself, so he rolled his eyes, shoved the guy off him and left, disappointed as always, and all the more committed to sticking to his rules in the future. Nothing but trouble could come of sex with big guys.

So no one can blame him for being a bit resentful of all his 6’ plus teammates the next morning, really. 

After the drills have been run, Nate stays back to shoot some pucks on the empty net, still full of restless energy and not quite ready to get off the ice and do his cool down yet. He needs to do something to feel like himself again and not let that asshole ruin his day. He spots Ovi talking to Snarls in open ice and a plan forms quickly in his head. He catches Snarls’ eye for a quick wink before gliding back in a slow arc away from the Russians to gather up some speed. Snarls is a bro and always down to mess with Ovi, so he can be counted on to keep Ovi’s attention on him.

Nate takes a breath, and charges as silently as he can across the ice. He checks Ovi hard just as Snarls takes a small step to the side, and Ovi goes sprawling to the ice. Nate almost trips over Ovi as the momentum continues to carry him forward, but he manages to hop over the laughing Russian at his feet and smoothly come to a stop.

Snarls reaches out a fist for a bump that Nate happily gives him because yeah he’s small but that has literally never stopped him from a lifetime of playing against bigger guys. 

“Big hit,” Ovi exclaims goodnaturedly as he gets to his feet, “I’m easy though, you gotta take down Backy next.”

Nate laughs and says as he skates towards the exit, “I’m not suicidal, O.” 

Confidence restored, Nate goes to cool down, because fuck the guy last night, Nate just took down Alexander Motherfucking Ovechkin.

//

After his cool down and shower, Nate walks into the locker room where a handful of his teammates are in various states of getting changed and ready to leave. Tom is still there, but unlike the others he’s fully dressed and messing around on his phone.

He looks up when he hears Nate’s footsteps and smiles. “Hey man,” Tom says, “I heard you knocked O off his feet. He talking shit about your mom?”

Nate rolls his eyes fondly and says, “Yeah, and he got what was coming for him. You better watch out or you’re next.” 

As if he could ever get mad enough at Tom to retaliate. Tom is basically a puppy in human form. He wants to play, he wants to please, and he wants cuddles. He may be the biggest guy on the Capitals and he may throw his weight around against other teams on the ice to a sometimes excessive degree, but give him a gentle chirp or a genuine compliment and he melts easy as anything.

True to form, Tom grins at the mock-threat. 

Nate turns to his stall and takes off his towel to dry himself. He hears Tom make a little noise, and glances over at him. Tom’s on his phone again, looking a little flushed, probably still hot from the shower.

“Something good on there, Willie?” Nate asks as he pulls his boxers on.

“Hmm?” Tom asks, distracted and not looking up.

“On your phone,” Nate specifies.

“Oh yeah,” Tom says after a brief pause, eyes still locked on his phone, “Fantasy league trade went through.”

Nate finishes tugging his clothes into place. “Nice. Your team doing well?” He’s not really into the fantasy football league like some of his teammates are, preferring Aussie Rules Football, but he’s casually interested.

Tom finally looks up at him again, and shakes his head, “Nah, not really.” 

He doesn’t seem bothered by this, which Nate likes. Tom is one of the most competitive guys on the ice and his determination to improve means he made the move from being a fourth line enforcer to a top-six skilled player this year, but off the ice he’s one of the most easy going guys Nate knows. And as an Aussie, Nate knows a _lot_ of easy going guys.

Nate slips his coat on and picks up his bag, ready to head home for lunch and a nap. He has vague plans to hang out with Chandler but it should be a relaxed rest of the day. He says to Tom, “Well, I’ll see you - ”

Tom cuts him off, “Actually, did you want to get lunch? There’s this new place in Arlington Latts mentioned that I want to try.”

“Oh,” Nate says, not expecting the invitation. He looks over at Chandler’s stall where he’s just picking up his bag ready to leave too and actually maybe it makes sense to have lunch with him too instead of hanging out later. That way he can just spend the afternoon chilling with Braden’s kids, which is one of his favorite ways to spend time. “Yeah, that sounds good. Let me grab Stevie.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” Tom says, “Yeah for sure.”

“Stevie, you coming for lunch with me and Willie?” Nate asks.

“Sure,” Chandler says easily. “Where are we going?”

The restaurant seems fancier than somewhere Latts would suggest, a nice Italian place with actual tablecloths and tables set for two. The waiters have to push two tables together for them and Chandler throws Nate a weird look. Nate shrugs back, thinking that it’s a bit odd, but Latts probably went there on a date and told Tom the food was good, and Tom is always happy to try new food. 

The food does end up being really good, and Nate didn’t actually mind bumping knees with Tom under the small table the whole time. 

//

The next morning, Nate shuffles into the kitchen where he can hear Braden and Brandi talking quietly. Braden likes to get in a morning workout before practice and Nate doesn’t have a car, so getting up early it is.

Nate slumps into a seat at the kitchen island and Brandi passes him a cup of coffee prepared just how he likes it and Braden puts a plate of eggs and toast in front of him.

“I love you guys,” Nate says quietly but sincerely.

Braden ruffles his hair, “Love you too, buddy.”

Nate feels like he could say anything to the Holtbys during these quiet mornings, like the stillness and calm couldn’t be disrupted by anything, even big news. Braden is only five years older than he is, but there’s something so steady and solid about him that Nate can’t help but feel warm and protected in his presence, and that feeling is doubled when he’s with Brandi in their light and airy kitchen so early in the morning.

He thinks about telling them about the guy two nights ago. Or telling them about guys in general. Of anyone on the team, Braden would be the best one to tell, what with him and Brandi marching in the DC Pride Parade each year, but Nate still finds himself holding back. A lifetime of keeping his bisexuality to himself, most of that in the more conservative Australia, is a hard habit to break.

Nate’s captain on his team in Australia found out when he walked in on Nate hooking up with a guy in a club toilet after a win and it had never been the same. He hadn’t told anyone, but he also made sure he was never alone in a room with Nate, especially not the changing room, and barely spoke to Nate except for when it came to hockey. Their teammates picked up on the tension and even if they didn’t know the cause, they started treating Nate differently too, following their captain’s lead as always. Nate had always been determined to get to the NHL to play his favorite sport with the top players in the world, but from then on his determination doubled because he had to get away.

In the end, he says nothing, like he has every morning he idly thought about telling them in the past, finishes his breakfast and heads out to start another day.

//

Nate doesn’t like working out too hard before a morning skate, so after warming up and stretching a bit, he gets geared up and goes to wait for practice to start by the rink. Not very long after he arrives, a heavy weight comes to rest on his left shoulder, startling him out of his zone out. 

He knows who it is by touch alone, but he glances up anyway and says, “Hey Willie.”

“Hey Walks,” Tom grins down at him. Tom has been using Nate as an arm rest for as long as Nate has been on the team and Nate doesn’t mind it at all. He especially likes it on cold mornings when they’re waiting outside to board a bus or plane as it means Tom’s body pressed up against him keeping him warm.

“You good?” Nate asks.

“Yeah,” Tom answers, matching Nate’s quiet tone.

With anyone else, especially with Latts or Burky, Nate is sure that Tom would have taken that as an invitation to talk, but with Nate Tom seems more content to be quiet. Nate can be just as rowdy as the best of them, he is a hockey player after all, but he likes this too.

They stand in silence for a while, just leaning against each other until the rest of their teammates start clattering up the hallway and practice begins.

//

A few days later Tom texts Nate to ask if he wants to go shopping with him since they have the day off. Nate’s a bit tired from getting in late the night before after an away game, but agrees readily enough. He texts Chandler to invite him along as well, figuring Tom will be bringing Latts and Burky, as the three of them always seem to go shopping together.

Chandler picks Nate up and drives them to the mall to meet Tom and the boys. They park with some difficulty in the full lot and Chandler sends Nate on ahead when he gets a call from his girlfriend. 

Nate winds his way around the parked cars towards Tom, who is standing alone, looking toward the parking lot entrance. He thinks about sneaking up on Tom, but in the end just calls out, “Hey” to make Tom jump a bit.

Tom whips around his face lights up as he sees Nate. “I was looking for the Beast’s Jeep!” he calls over to Nate. “How’d you get here?”

Nate rolls his eyes and grouches good naturedly, “He’s not my dad, he doesn’t take me everywhere.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tom says as he pulls him in for a hug which somehow involves lifting Nate fully off the ground for a moment. For one of the bro-iest dudes Nate knows, Tom never seems to pull a bro-hug with Nate which has always amused him.

Nate should probably give Tom a little shove so he doesn’t get the idea that Nate likes being manhandled but Tom is smiling and it’s a cold February day and Nate likes how warm Tom is, so he just submits to the hug and takes the moment in.

Tom puts him softly back on the ground and says, “So I was thinking we could - ”

Chandler walks up then and cuts him off, “Sorry! Tasha called and reminded me to get a few things from Target while we’re here.”

The wide smile on Tom’s face dims slightly and he seems oddly disappointed. Nate doesn’t get it, because who doesn’t like Target? Nate could happily go to Target everyday and find something new he wants each time. 

“Hey man,” Tom says to Chandler with a nod. “Good day for shopping, eh?”

Chandler’s eyes flick to Nate quickly and he responds with a strange kind of drawn out, “Yeah.”

Nate cocks his head at Chandler, confused, but Chandler just shakes his head and continues, “Alright, should we head in?”

“For sure. I need to get my mom something for her birthday,” Tom says, leading the way into the mall. “I don’t know what to get her so maybe you guys can help.”

It’s always hard to shop for someone you don’t know, but Nate does his best to be helpful, and his chest puffs up with pride when Tom ends up getting his mom a couple of nice cashmere scarves on Nate’s suggestion.

“See, Stevie, _some_ people listen to me,” Nate tells Chandler happily. “This guy didn’t believe me when I said Tasha would like that fancy blender she put on her Insta more than a necklace,” he tells Tom, still smug that the first thing Tasha bought in the post-Christmas sales earlier this year had been the very blender Nate advocated for.

“It’s just so hard to listen to you when you’re all the way down there,” Chandler chirps.

“Always the height with you,” Nate groans. “You’d think you could get some new material.”

“Well, we could talk about your pathetic excuse for a beard,” Chandler says, dimples peeking into view from his own lustrous beard.

“Stevie!” Nate exclaims, mock-shocked as he protectively strokes his beard. “Tom, tell this jerk my beard is perfection.”

Tom grins at Nate and says dutifully, “Your beard is perfection.” He hooks Nate’s neck with his arm and draws him into his side. “And your height is perfect too.”

Nate knows it doesn’t mean anything really, and he really, really should stop noticing it whenever Tom touches him, but he feels warm from the inside anyway. It’s just nice when your mates stand up for you, even as a joke. That’s all.

//

The team is on the plane flying back home after a short road trip to Columbus and Detroit the next time it happens. Nate gets out of his seat to grab the charging cable for his tablet from the overhead compartment but even with stretching as far as he can, his fingers just can’t find the cable. He’s about to give up and drag the whole bag down to his seat so he can look through it properly when warm fingers dig into his hips and he finds himself lifted up toward the compartment. 

Nate breathes in sharply at the feeling of being held so securely half a foot off the ground but doesn’t struggle against it. With the extra height, he’s able to easily find the cable at the bottom of his bag and he says softly, not wanting to wake the guys sleeping around them, “Got it.”

“Good,” Tom’s low voice rumbles in his ear. He lowers Nate gently to the ground and continues on his way up the aisle to the bathroom, fingers lightly brushing against Nate’s lower back as he moves around him. 

Nate sits down on his seat hard, feeling oddly winded. He plugs his dying tablet in to charge with fumbling fingers and then rubs absently along the vee of his hips where he can still feel Tom’s large fingers like a brand.

The fact that picking Nate up and holding him there didn’t even break Tom’s stride really shouldn’t be so hot. Really. Nate’s just going to need a moment to remember his rules. Maybe more than a moment.

//

If dealing with his growing feelings about Tom wasn’t enough to handle, Pride Night is coming up, and Nate is a ball of nerves about it. On the one hand, he wants to support the LGBT community, but on the other hand he might die if he shows that support by putting pride tape on his stick during warm ups and someone realizes he actually is a _member_ of the community.

“I like the Pride Tape this year,” Braden is saying to Brandi as Nate walks into the living room. “I think the stripes are thicker.”

Nate freezes and frantically tries to decide if they would notice if he just reversed back out of the room. He just got back from a long evening of pizza and video games with Chandler, and had planned on hanging out with the Holtbys a bit before bed, but not if they’re talking about Pride Night. He gets as far as picking one foot off the ground to place behind him before Braden’s laser-like goalie stare catches the movement.

“Nate,” Braden smiles. “Back so soon? We thought you might crash at Stevie’s.”

He _should_ have crashed at Chandler's, fuck. “Nah, Tasha called and I think they were heading toward phone sex so I bailed.”

Brandi laughs. “Well, we’re always happy to have you here with us. I’m going to grab us another round from the fridge. Do you want a beer, Nate?”

“Yes, please,” Nate says quickly because he was raised right and because he’s going to need it for the inevitable conversation. He sits down in the easychair next to the couch where Braden is sitting.

“So are you planning on using the tape on Pride Night?” Braden asks.

A very brief urge to strangle Braden to get out of this conversation passes through Nate’s mind. Should he say yes now to avoid the lecture and then disappoint Braden later when he decides not to actually go through with it? Or is disappointing him now better than staving off the inevitable? 

Fuck it. If Nate could get through his dad’s disappointment in his bisexuality and his mom’s disappointment in him moving from Australia, he can get through Braden’s disappointment now. “No,” he says firmly.

One of Braden’s eyebrows raises judgmentally. Nate hates that eyebrow. “No?” Braden asks after a decent pause, presumably to let the eyebrow do its work.

Nate will not be the one to break first. “No,” he confirms.

In the silence that follows Brandi walks back in and hands a beer bottle to Braden and Nate before sitting back down next to Braden.

“So,” Brandi draws out the word, looking between the two men. “I missed something?”

Braden finally breaks his stare down with Nate, and Nate lets out a silent sigh of relief. The Holtbeast stare is no joke.

“Nate has decided,” Braden starts, a hard edge to his voice that Nate has never heard directed at him before, “that he won’t be participating in Pride Night. Even though he knows how much it means to me, to our LGBT fans, and to any young LGBT players who think they can’t play in the NHL.”

“Holts,” Nate says plantitively. 

“I get it,” Braden says, and Nate was right, he sounds so disappointed. “I just didn’t expect it from you.”

“Not everyone uses the tape, Holts,” Nate tries to reason. “That doesn’t mean we don’t support the cause.” In fact, most players didn’t use the tape, but Nate supposed it was different to Braden because Nate was actually living with him.

“You Can Play is just a saying if the players themselves don’t back it up by participating,” Brandi says. “It’s got to be visible support to make a difference.”

Braden nods seriously. “Yeah, affecting real change takes people standing up and being visible to everyone.”

“I know,” Nate says, starting to feel overwhelmed.

“Just think about all the kids with talent who stop playing because they don’t feel like they can play in the league and be safe. Don’t they deserve our support?” Braden asks.

“And the LGBT fans who want to support the Caps and come to games but don’t feel safe doing so. What about them?” Brandi puts in.

“We’ve got to be role models, we’ve got to give our support,” Braden says. He swallows a bit thickly and adds quieter, “This is really important to me, Nate.” 

Nate can’t take his earnestness any longer and blurts out the first thing to come to mind, “I’m the one who needs support!” It’s louder than he intended and he didn’t mean to say it, but he had to get them to stop.

“Um,” Braden blinks, sounding unsure what Nate meant. At any other point Nate would be crowing about actually throwing Braden off his zen calm, a nearly impossible task, but he’s too busy panicking at what he just said.

“Oh,” Brandi says quietly. Nate can tell she got it right away. “Braden. He needs support.”

Braden furrows his brows briefly, glancing between the two of them, before raising them all the way in surprise, getting it. “Oh buddy,” he says reaching over to grip Nate’s knee. “We totally support you. We just didn’t know.”

“Yeah, well,” Nate says, looking away from Braden’s too earnest eyes. He’s not tearing up at their easy acceptance, definitely not. “No one really does.”

“Not even Stevie?” Braden asks. “He’s your best friend.”

Nate shrugs off Braden’s comforting hand and feels his shoulders creeping up towards his ears. He knows he should tell Chandler and has felt guilty as fuck the whole time that he hasn’t, because Chandler is his best friend.

“He doesn’t have to tell anyone he doesn’t want to,” Brandi says pointedly.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Braden says, hands coming up placatingly. “All I’ll say is that he’s a good Saskatchewanian boy and he wouldn’t care at all, Walks.”

Nate feels his shoulders unclench a little, back on the familiar ground of chirping the Canadians for all sticking together and but managing to still be so damn polite about it. “You can’t know that just because he’s from the same province as you.”

“Maybe not,” Braden’s lips quirk, “But I can know that because he and I have talked about it before.”

Nate flinches, muscles tensing up completely again, and opens his mouth to demand an explanation, but Brandi quickly says, “Not about you, honey, about Brad.”

Nate’s mind feels like it skips a track and he doesn’t know what to say besides, “You?”

Braden smiles softly, confident and comfortable as always, “Me. Why do you think Pride Night and walking in the Pride Parade every year is so important to me?”

“Because you’re really fucking supportive?” Nate asks, still a bit dazed.

“I mean, he is,” Brandi says, warm as ever. She reaches out and interlocks her fingers with Braden’s, smiling at him before turning to look at Nate again. “But he’s also bisexual.”

“I didn’t,” Nate stops and blinks a couple of times, world reorienting itself. “I didn’t know.”

“I don’t advertise it,” Braden says, “And it is easier to not advertise it since I have a wife, but it’s who I am, and it’s important to me to support other people like me. Like us.”

“Wow,” Nate’s still processing it all, but realises that sounds douchey. “Sorry, it’s just. I’ve never met another bi hockey player.”

“Statistically you probably have,” Braden says serenely. 

“I guess?” Nate’s mind is kind of blown. He’s never told another player about his sexuality because he knows how they’d treat him, knows what they’d say, but here’s Braden, pillar of strength on their team telling Nate he’s bi, trusting Nate with who he is. And the tears that Nate had been stubbornly keeping in, start to fall.

“Aw, bud,” Braden says softly. “C’mere.” He reaches out and pulls Nate from the chair onto the couch between them, Brandi shifting to make room for him.

The two settle warmly around him, and Nate snuggles into them, catching his breath.

When he starts to speak, it’s quiet and a bit tearful but he gets more worked up as he goes on. “One of the reasons why I came to the NHL was that America is supposed to be more tolerant than Australia, so I should be taking advantage of that tolerance, right? But this is my first season in the NHL and I’ve worked so hard to get here and I can’t handle the thought that this would be the thing that kicks me back down. I mean, I might not stay up anyway, I’m not even playing, I’m always a healthy scratch, but that’s better than being put on waivers because that sucked balls. Moving to Edmonton sucked and then coming back but not even playing fucking sucks and what if I use the Pride Tape and people know I’m bi and everyone treats me differently and everyone stops talking to me and calls me fag behind my back and - ”

“Breathe, Nate,” Brandi cuts him off. “It’s okay.”

“Did that happen on your team in Australia?” Braden asks hotly. “Those fucking idiots. I oughta - ”

“You ought to tell Nate that you won’t let that happen on the team here,” Brandi says pointedly.

Nate can’t help his small grin at ever-calm Braden losing his cool over the way Nate was treated. “You gonna beat up a bunch of Aussies for me, Holts?”

“I would,” Braden says seriously, tucking Nate even closer to him. “And I’ll do the same to any guys on our team if they decide to be assholes about it.”

“Not that you have to tell them, though,” Brandi says.

“Yeah,” Braden agrees. “Though I stand by what I said about Stevie. If you want to, I know he’d be okay with it.”

Nate sleeps easily that night, feeling like a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

//

The sky doesn’t fall and lightning doesn’t strike Nate down now that people know he’s bi. Life, surprisingly, moves on. 

“You seem really good, man,” Chandler says. They’re out getting lunch after morning skate a few days later at Nate’s favorite sandwich place. 

“I feel good,” Nate says. “I, well. I had a good talk with Holts and Brandi.”

“Yeah? They’re the best. I can’t wait till Tasha finishes her degree and can move in with me,” Chandler says, sounding wistful. “_She’s_ the best.”

“So embarrassingly in love,” Nate chirps happily.

“And what about you? Still happy being a single kangaroo?” Chandler kicks at Nate’s feet lightly under the table. Nate has always loved Chandler’s easy physical affection and he hopes that doesn’t change with what he’s about to say.

“Yeah,” Nate says reflexively, but then pauses before taking it back. “Actually, no. I’ve been thinking about maybe trying to date?”

“Nice! I can ask around for you, if you want?” Chandler asks excitedly. “I think Conno and Beags said they know some single girls. Let me check the group chat.”

Nate takes a deep breath and reminds himself of what Braden said before saying, “Yeah, definitely, but maybe they also know some single guys?”

Chandler doesn’t even pause where he’s scrolling through the Caps group chat, “Conno definitely does, but I think I’ll ask him in person, yeah?”

“Yeah, good idea,” Nate says shakily.

Chandler presses his knee to Nate’s under the table reassuringly, looking up from his phone and smiling at Nate. “I’ve got you, man.”

Nate presses his knee firmly back against Chandler’s and grins hard at his plate.

“Did you want to talk about it?” Chandler asks.

“Not really,” Nate says, looking up once he’s controlled the rush of adrenaline and relief making his chest tight. “Maybe another time? This is kind of big enough for now, y’know?”

“For sure. Well you know I’m here if you want to.”

“Thanks, man,” Nate says. 

They finish their food pretty quickly after that and head back to Chandler’s house for Mario Kart. 

“So, now that I’m in the know, can I just ask,” Chandler starts, glancing over at Nate briefly before returning his gaze to the tv where the race is just starting. “Why have you been bringing me on your dates with Willie?”

Toad goes right off the road as Nate jerks in surprise and protests, “What? Those weren’t dates!”

“Lunch at a couple’s restaurant and helping him shop for his mom are definitely dates, dude.”

“But, but,” Nate splutters, “Willie is straight. Super straight. Like, the most straight.”

“I don’t know,” Chandler says, lapping Nate on the track now. “I don’t see him draping himself over the rest of us just to get to the coffee creamer like he did for you yesterday.”

“That’s just,” Nate tries to think of a way to explain something that until just now seemed totally innocent. “It’s just cause I’m small, so he can reach over me instead of waiting for me to move.”

“I mean, he could reach over Snarls or Ness the same way, but I’ve never seen him do it to them,” Chandler says reasonably. Nate has to admit that that’s true. Ness is only an inch taller than Nate and is pretty friendly with Tom and Tom’s never used him as an armrest. Huh.

Yoshi has won on the screen so Chandler drops his controller and turns to face Nate on the couch before saying, “Hey. What are you doing on the off day tomorrow?”

“Um, Willie and I are doing a segway tour and having dinner?” Nate feels suddenly unsure and it makes his statement end in an almost question. “I was going to see if you wanted to come, but you have plans, right?”

“Well yeah, I have plans,” Chandler says with a smirk. “It’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow. I’m going to be skyping with my girlfriend. Because that’s what people who are dating do on Valentine’s. They spend time with each other one-on-one.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day?” Nate groans. 

Chandler nods, dimples in full, smug effect.

“Maybe he didn’t realise?” Nate asks, but he suddenly remembers how Tom had seemed strangely nervous asking Nate about the segway tour the other day. Nate had thought it was just Tom being embarrassed that he wanted to do something so touristy, but if Chandler is right, Tom was nervous about it being a date on Valentine’s. “Oh god.”

“I’m sure Willie wouldn’t hold it against you if you backed out,” Chandler soothes, incorrectly interpreting Nate’s tone.

“I don’t want to back out,” Nate says quickly because Tom is his type to a T. Tall, strong, broad-shouldered, _big_, but also a total sweetheart. But he can’t let himself hope without asking, “Do you really think he’s into me? Like, really really? You’re not messing with me?”

“Nate,” Chandler chides. “C’mon. You know me better than that. Best friends, right?”

“Best friends,” Nate echoes, because they are. Chandler wouldn’t lie to him, not about something this important.

“I didn’t know if you swung that way, but I’ve known he was interested in you since the preseason,” Chandler says. “He follows you around like a puppy. It’s cute.”

Nate feels himself blush and says quietly. “It is cute.”

“Yeah it is!” Chandler exclaims with an encouraging grin. “I knew you liked him!”

“Shut it, Stevie,” Nate says, still unable to get control of his blush.

“Nope,” Chandler says cheerily. “This is a good thing, right? You like him, he likes you.”

“Yeah,” Nate says slowly. It’s going to take him a while to fully wrap his brain around the fact that Tom likes him. _Tom_. Tom who Nate has seen correctly described on the internet as ‘Candian Prime Beef’. Tom who calls his mom every day. Tom who can lift Nate without even thinking about it. Tom who loves his team more than anything. Tom who always wants to know more about Australia and Nate’s life there. Tom who lights up when he sees Nate. Tom who. Who _likes Nate_. “Yeah, this is a good thing.”

//

It isn’t until the next day that Nate comes crashing back to earth because yeah, Tom is all those amazing things, but Tom is also over 5’10” and Nate has rules for a reason. Sure it’s a vast generalization, but Nate has never hooked up with a guy over 5’10” who didn’t automatically assume he could boss Nate around to varying degrees in bed. And Tom has a proven history of enjoying being physically dominant with Nate. Which, yeah, Nate actually enjoys a lot because it means Tom being close to him, Tom paying attention to him, Tom touching him, but what if Tom expects sex to be like that too?

Nate’s had a lot of subpar sex in his day, but he doesn’t think he could take that with Tom. He’s still got to see Tom every day and be around him literally all the time, which could really suck if this all went bad. And yeah Nate really likes Tom and really wants to fuck him, but keeping Tom as a friend is more important for, like, team cohesion or something.

Nate’s just convinced himself to call the whole thing off when his phone rings. 

It’s Tom. Of course.

Nate picks up and says, “Hey Willie.” Maybe Tom never meant for it to be a date and realised it’s Valentine’s Day and is cancelling so Nate won’t have to be the bad guy. Maybe Chandler was totally off base yesterday. Maybe the thought of missing out on a chance with Tom isn’t breaking Nate’s heart just a little bit.

“Hey man,” Tom says. “I just wanted to check we were still on for this afternoon?”

His hopeful tone way too easily erodes Nate’s conviction to cancel this date.

“I’m really looking forward to spending time with you,” Tom continues, sounding warm.

Nate can easily picture his stupid earnest face and it kind of makes him want to die. His conviction crumbles to dust.

“Yeah, of course we’re on. Can’t wait,” Nate says. He’s going to ruin team chemistry. He’s going to ruin his friendship with Tom. He’s going to fuck this all up because he’s weak in the face of Tom’s enthusiasm.

“Great!” Tom says happily oblivious to Nate’s distress. “I’ll pick you up at 2?”

“Sounds good,” Nate says.

If he’s doing this, then he’s doing it right, Nate decides. He bribes Braden with babysitting to get some of his coveted maple sugar leaf candies to give to Tom, he takes a shower, and makes an effort with his hair and clothes. 

He waits outside for Tom because Braden has been giving him loaded looks ever since he asked for the candy and the last thing Nate’s very thin grasp on his composure needs is Braden interrogating Nate about his date.

Tom pulls up exactly at 2, because of course he does. He gets out of his SUV and jogs around the car to pull Nate into a hug.

“Hey man,” Tom mumbles into Nate’s hair. 

There are no manly back slaps, Tom is wearing cologne, this is a confirmed date. The last of Nate’s worries that this was all just a bro-hang fall away and he squeezes Tom back. 

He steps back and smiles up at Tom. “It’s good to see you, Willie.” They saw each other yesterday, but Nate can still feel the impression of Tom’s firm chest against his cheek and his huge biceps curled tight around him and Nate is a bit lost.

Tom smiles back. “You too, Walks.” He opens the car door for Nate and Nate gets in, blushing a bit at the unexpected move. 

They chat about the team on the drive to the segway place, and Nate marvels at how normal it all is. How easy it is to talk to Tom, even with the weight of this being a date hanging over their heads. It’s not like he really expected Tom to change just because Nate’s perception of him changed, but it was still a bit odd that it _wasn’t_ odd.

The segway tour is fun, and Nate’s sides hurt from laughing at Tom zooming around and showing off, but it’s not till dinner that the tone really shifts to Romantic.

The restaurant itself isn’t anything particularly special, just a steakhouse, but it’s quiet, and they’re sitting in a booth away from prying eyes, so Nate feels like he can relax. The small weight of the candies has been burning a hole in his pocket all afternoon and after they’ve been seated, Nate can’t wait any longer. The years of homophobia in the locker room means there’s still a tiny part of him that’s cringing away from firmly labeling this as a date, even though so far all signs have pointed to it, so he figures he’ll go all in before they order in case he read the situation wrongly and needs to escape.

He pulls the box of candies out of his pocket and sets them in the middle of the table. They aren’t wrapped or anything, so it’s pretty obvious what they are. 

“These are for you,” Nate says, a bit unnecessarily.

The dim lighting of the restaurant doesn’t hide the blush that spreads across the tops of Tom’s cheeks. “Maple candies?” he asks with a wide grin. “I’ve been missing these!”

“Yeah, I remember you talking about them, and Holts had some extra, so,” Nate trails off, ducking his head a bit in the face of Tom’s enthusiasm. He’s just really fucking pretty when he smiles, it’s kind of hard to look at for too long at a time.

“Thanks, man,” Tom says warmly. He reaches out over the table and tentatively brushes his fingers against the back of Nate’s hand. “I really, um. I really like that you listen to me, if that doesn’t sound stupid?”

Nate quickly flips his hand over to grasp Tom’s hand before he can pull it away. “I really like listening to you,” he says reassuringly. Hand holding is firmly romantic, there can be no niggling doubts, Nate is all in. “I’m glad you asked me out, Willie.”

Tom chuckles and says, “I’m just glad you finally got a clue and stopped bringing Stevie along.” 

“How was I supposed to know?” Nate groans, putting his head in his hands. “Lots of guys go to lunch together!”

“Do lots of guys touch you as much as I do?” Tom asks. “I know we’ve got a cuddly team, but I might have to get jealous if they’re touching you that much.”

Nate looks up to see Tom grinning. “Okay, that maybe should have been a sign,” he says.

“Yeah, _maybe_,” Tom teases.

The waiter comes over then and they order, both predictably getting a steak. The conversation flows easily after that, talking about their families and respective housemates. 

After they’ve polished off their food, there’s a pause in the conversation. Nate has been gently rubbing his calf against Tom’s for the last ten minutes, thankful for Tom’s ridiculous height meaning his legs are stretched out to Nate’s side of the table.

“Do you,” Tom starts to ask, but then stops and bites his lip.

“Do I what?” Nate asks gently. He doesn’t think he will ever get tired of seeing big, brash, loud Tom blush so easily.

Tom appears to steel himself. “Do you want to come back to my place?” he asks all in a rush.

“Latts won’t mind?” Nate asks.

“I. Well. I asked him to stay at Burky’s place tonight?” Tom says, sounding a bit nervous.

“You knew I was a sure thing?” Nate asks. “That’s confident!”

“I hoped,” Tom said, pressing his leg against Nate’s more firmly as he relaxes into the familiar routine of chirping.

“Well, you’re in luck,” Nate says with a grin. “I am a sure thing, and I’d love to come back to yours.”

“Awesome,” Tom says happily.

It isn’t until they’re sitting on Tom’s couch, beers in hand, that Nate thinks to ask, “Have you done this before?”

It’s presumptuous, but Nate’s expecting Tom to be embarrassed and probably inexperienced. He knows it’s a stereotype, but Nate can’t quite get over the idea that Tom is an uber straight guy, the bro-iest of bros, the guy he’d least expect to be into guys. 

So he’s surprised when Tom answers easily, “Yeah, of course. One does not get through Canadian Juniors without sucking a dick or two, y’know?”

Nate barks out a laugh, completely surprised. “Seriously?”

Tom smirks and says, “Well, maybe if you’re totally straight you can get through juniors without, but I’m not, so. Lots of dicks were sucked.”

Nate’s eyes flick to Tom’s lips and he shifts closer to Tom on the couch. “Well, you do have the lips for it,” he says lowly. 

“These old things?” Tom asks as he stretches his arm smoothly around Nate’s shoulders, tugging him even closer. “I’ve never had any complaints.”

He ducks down and kisses Nate lightly at first, and then more firmly when Nate presses up to meet him. His lips are soft and generous and they part easily when Nate flicks his tongue in question against them. The kiss gets wetter but no less sweet as their lips move slickly against each other.

Nate’s neck starts to get tight after a while arched up towards Tom as he is, so he gently nudges Tom back and kneels up on the couch, swinging one leg over Tom’s. He settles onto Tom’s lap and Tom’s hands immediately gravitate to Nate’s hips to steady him.

Nate reaches out with both hands and strokes his thumbs across Tom’s cheekbones for a moment, just marvelling at being here with this gorgeous man, before angling Tom’s head where he wants it. He leans in to kiss Tom again but stops just shy of his lips.

“This okay?” Nate checks in. Tom’s eyes are dark with desire and he moved easily with Nate’s touch, but better safe than sorry.

“Yeah,” Tom says breathily. “Kiss me?”

As if he had to ask. Nate closes the small distance and licks wetly into Tom’s mouth, holding Tom firmly in place. Tom’s fingers dig into the back of Nate’s hips and he moans softly into Nate’s mouth. Tom is responding so beautifully to Nate, just letting him position him where Nate wants, not even moving his hands, and ceding all control of the kiss to Nate. It’s the hottest thing Nate has ever seen and it just makes him greedy for more.

He can feel Tom’s hips restlessly jerking beneath him so he reluctantly pulls back from the kiss and their lips part with a wet sound. Tom whines very softly but doesn’t try to chase Nate’s lips.

“Do you want to move this to the bedroom?” Nate asks, thumb gently soothing along Tom’s swollen lower lip.

“Um,” Tom sounds momentarily dazed before shaking it off and saying, “yes!” He moves his hands to Nate’s ass and stands up abruptly, lifting Nate with him.

Nate sucks in a breath, because Tom’s casual strength will never not be hot. 

Tom takes a couple steps around the couch before stopping to ask, “Actually. Sorry. Did you want to walk?”

Nate presses his face into Tom’s neck and laughs. “I’m okay being your koala, Willie.”

“My koala,” Tom muses, and Nate can hear his grin. “I like that.”

Nate pulls back to look Tom in the face as Tom starts walking again, knowing exactly how little it takes for Tom to adopt a nickname for a teammate and spread it around the locker room. “Don’t you dare start calling me that,” he threatens.

“Alright, alright,” Tom says with a chuckle. He’s quiet for a moment and then adds smugly, “You’re more like my baby kangaroo like this anyway.”

“Willie!” Nate shouts.

Tom laughs harder and eases Nate down to his feet at the foot of his bed. Nate can’t help but laugh with him as a warm feeling bubbles up within him. The fact that Tom didn’t just toss him onto the bed like so many other guys would have done is doing funny things to Nate. He can’t articulate how much it means to him so he just reaches up and tugs at Tom’s shoulders to bring his gorgeous grinning face close enough for Nate to kiss.

Tom’s arms wrap around him to draw Nate up onto his toes for more kisses, and Nate sighs happily into the kiss, content as ever to be surrounded so completely by Tom’s bulk. Tom seems content to stay standing at the foot of his bed trading wet kisses Nate for as long as Nate wants, and while Nate would happily spend hours kissing Tom’s plush lips, he also needed to get his hands on Tom’s naked body yesterday.

He leans back from Tom reluctantly, and Tom’s arms immediately loosen to let Nate settle back onto his heels. For a moment Nate feels awkward because he doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t want to kill the mood by asking, but then he remembers all the times he was with guys who decided the kind of sex they were having without asking Nate if it was okay, and he finds the courage to ask Tom. “Hey, is it okay if I push you around a bit?”

That doesn’t sound right, but Nate soldiers on because damn it that date was too good, _Tom_ is too good to let become another story of subpar sex in Nate’s life. “I mean, I like to be in charge. And maybe a bit rough, if that’s okay?”

The seconds that follow Nate’s question stretch out like an eternity and Nate’s just about to take it back and pretend that it was a joke when Tom exhales a bit shakily and says quietly, “Please, Nate.”

His eyes are wide and dark and his hands flutter like he wants to reach out to Nate again but he brings them back down to his sides.

“Oh you’re perfect,” Nate says reverently, reaching up to gently cup Tom’s cheek. 

Tom’s eyes seem to go even darker at the praise.

“Tell me if there’s anything I do that you don’t like,” Nate says. When he gets a nod from Tom he tests the waters and asks, “Can you take off your clothes for me?”

The speed at which Tom flings his clothes off is gratifying and stupidly hot. Tom stands there, naked and waiting for Nate, looking like a Greek god, like one of those fancy statues Nate learned about when he was in school, all corded with muscles and perfectly formed in every single way. His cock is a deep red and is standing proudly against Tom’s ridiculously perfect abs. It’s honestly a bit intimidating how many dirty things Nate wants to do to him.

Nate takes a deep breath to center himself from spinning out over how very badly he wants Tom, reaches out to place his hands on Tom’s pecs, and pushes.

Tom gasps prettily as he falls back onto the bed, bouncing a bit when he lands. “Nate,” he breathes.

“Yeah, Tom,” Nate murmurs as he strips off his own clothes, not looking away from Tom while he does. It’s a stupid time to realise that he’s never called Tom by his first name. It was Wilson when he first met him, Willie, when they became friends, and babe whenever he spent too much time around T.J., but never Tom. It feels right to call him it now though.

He crawls up onto the bed and tells Tom quietly, “Shift up for me, sweetheart.”

Tom obediently moves up on the bed so he’s lying in the middle of the bed. 

Nate climbs on top of Tom with his knees on either side of Tom’s hips and his hands pressing his full weight onto Tom’s shoulders. 

It just takes a moment in this position for Tom to shudder and go practically boneless beneath Nate.

“So good for me,” Nate soothes. He leans back a bit to take his weight off Tom’s shoulders, and gently strokes his hands along Tom’s shoulders, his biceps, his pecs. He thumbs at one of Tom’s nipples and is rewarded by a sharp inhale. He doesn’t linger for long though, and keeps up his sweeping motions down along Tom’s chest, tracing Tom’s muscles and getting well acquainted with them. After years of schooling himself never to look at his teammates this way, Nate can’t tear his eyes, or questing fingers, away. 

When Nate’s fingers brush low along Tom’s waist, Tom twitches slightly and giggles. Nate smiles down at him and stills his hands. “Ticklish?”

“Yeah,” Tom confirms. The corners of his eyes are creased up with mirth, but he’s still relaxed completely against the mattress, not moving to take Nate’s hands off his ticklish sides. 

Nate leans down to kiss him then, completely unable to resist those eyes. The kiss deepens immediately and Nate shifts his weight back to put pressure on Tom’s cock.

Tom gasps and mumbles Nate’s name against his lips.

Nate draws back further to more firmly rock his ass against Tom’s cock where it’s nestled between Nate’s cheeks. He drops little biting kisses along the tendon in Tom’s neck, letting Tom’s anticipation build with each roll of Nate’s hips. Nate can tell Tom is doing his best to stay still, only making one aborted thrust up, even as his breathing gets more ragged by the minute, and his control is breathtaking.

He can see one of Tom’s hands out of the corner of his eye where its balled into a fist, clutching the sheets beneath him. Nate hadn’t asked Tom to not touch him and wouldn’t have been disappointed if he had, but by pressing Tom’s shoulders into the bed, he hoped Tom might respond this way. It’s even hotter than Nate could have imagined, all of Tom’s hard-fought muscles trembling in an effort to stay perfectly still for Nate. 

“You’re being so good, Tom,” Nate says, not stopping his grinding.

“Please,” Tom says quietly. His eyes are beseeching and Nate can feel a spurt of precum trickle out of Tom’s cock hot and wet beneath him.

Nate rolls one of Tom’s nipples in between his fingers and asks, “Please what, Tom?”

“Please,” Tom gasps, sounding close to the edge just from the friction between them. “Can I - can I touch you?”

And _oh_, he is so good.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

“How do you wanna touch me, sweetheart?” Nate asks.

“I, um,” Tom blinks owlishly at Nate and clenches his fists even tighter on the sheets. He seems overwhelmed and Nate is filled up to the brim with affection.

“Do you want me to tell you how I want you to touch me?” Nate asks.

Tom sighs and his shoulders lose their tension. “Yeah,” he says quietly. 

“I want you to get me ready for your cock, but I’m going to stay right here on top of you,” Nate says. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah, yes. I can totally do that,” Tom says quickly, licking his lips. “Can I get the lube?”

“Yeah, Tom. Go ahead,” Nate says, kneeling up a bit so Tom can shift under him to get the lube and condoms out of the nightstand. He feels so powerful with the control Tom has given him, but all he wants to do with that power is to make Tom feel as good as he can.

Tom squeezes lube onto his fingers and rubs them together a bit to warm it up before trying to reach around Nate’s thigh to get to his ass. He can’t reach, so he tries to reach between Nate’s legs but he fails there too. Tom bites his lip and ask, “Can you move up here a bit?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Nate says and presses a light kiss to Tom’s brow. “You can figure it out.”

Tom eyebrows draw in, as he clearly struggles to think past the sex fog to figure out how to finger Nate without moving him. His expression clears after a moment and his abs ripple as his upper body curls up towards Nate until he’s almost sitting upright. He keeps one hand on the bed next to him, not even reaching behind to prop himself up and reaches the other behind Nate.

“Good job,” Nate says with a warm smile. It was a simple task, but it helped bring Tom back from the edge so he can concentrate on prepping Nate. He drapes his arms around Tom’s shoulders and lets Tom get to work.

Tom’s abs quiver with the effort of holding himself up at the odd angle as he stretches Nate slowly, with lots of lube, until Nate says, “That’s perfect, Tom,” and pushes Tom’s shoulders so he falls back again.

He reaches behind him to roll a condom, lines himself up quickly, and sinks down on Tom’s cock. The stretch is intense, even with the prep, but it feels incredible. _God_, he’s big.

Tom groans and his hands reach up to Nate.

Nate is breathing shallowly to adjust to Tom’s girth so his, “No,” comes out less firmly than he intended, but Tom still immediately presses his hands back onto the bed.

“You feel,” Tom says, tension evident in his voice. “Nate, you’re so tight.”

“Filling me up so good, Tommy,” Nate says as he leans down to brace his hands on Tom’s pecs for leverage. Nate leans down to brush his lips against Tom’s briefly before pushing himself up to ride Tom properly.

They both moan when Nate draws himself up for the first time and Tom only gets louder as the minutes go by. It’s easy for Nate to lose himself to the hard rhythm with the soundtrack of Tom’s gasps and grunts.

On a particularly hard thrust down, Tom yelps out a panicked sounding, “Nate!”

Nate quickly raises up just enough to reach down to grip the base of Tom’s cock hard with the fast reflexes of a professional hockey player.

Tom’s chest expands hugely as he holds a deep breath with his eyes clenched shut, struggling to get himself under control.

Nate holds himself perfectly still while he waits patiently. “You okay?” he asks once Tom’s breathing has become less ragged.

Tom takes another deep breath before opening his eyes with a smile and responding, “Yeah, I’m good now. Thanks, Nate.”

“I’m proud of you, sweetheart. Thank _you_ for telling me when you needed help,” Nate says as he releases his grip on Tom’s cock and starts rolling his hips back and forth, building up a gentle rhythm.

“I want you to come first,” Tom says, with a desperate edge to his voice. “Is that okay?”

“Of course that’s okay,” Nate reassures him. “Can you hold on a bit longer?”

“Yeah,” Tom says, and the same look of determination comes over his face that he has when he puts extra hours in at the rink. Focused and ready to succeed.

Nate’s heart squeezes and he says without thinking, “Good boy.”

Tom’s hips jerk up sharply in response and Nate gasps. They will _definitely_ be returning to that another day, but for now Nate just pushes a bit more firmly on Tom’s pecs to remind him to stay still before kneeling up to start riding him again.

Nate is lit up with Tom’s reaction, with Tom’s huge cock dragging along his sensitive rim, with how perfect Tom is, and the arousal that he had managed to hold at bay when he was working Tom up comes crashing in. He tilts his hips so that Tom’s cock starts nailing his prostate with each thrust, and he only needs a few tugs of his cock before he’s groaning and spilling over Tom’s chest.

Tom whimpers and bites his lip to keep himself from coming from the force of Nate’s orgasm around his cock.

He pulls himself off of Tom’s still hard cock with a sigh and moves to kneel between Tom’s shaking thighs. He switches the condom for a fresh one and swallows Tom down with barely a pause for breath.

Tom shouts.

Nate bobs up and down, sucking as much of Tom’s cock as he can fit in his mouth with a hand wrapped around the rest. He’s never liked the taste of latex, but they hadn’t talked about not using condoms before they started and Nate wasn’t stopping now to ask. He can only hope there will be a next time when he’ll get to taste Tom properly.

“Nate,” Tom moans. “I need to come, please please please.”

Nate pulls off to look up at this absolutely perfect man who was everything Nate could ever want and more. “Come when you want, sweetheart,” he says.

Tom comes as soon as Nate gets his mouth back around his cock with a deep groan. He goes totally limp, eyes closing, except for one hand which snakes down to grip one of Nate’s. Nate rests his head against Tom’s hip and looks up at Tom, content to hold his hand until Tom opens his eyes.

They lie together, just breathing and holding hands, for long moments before Tom opens his eyes and says quietly, “Holy fuck, Walks.”

Nate chuckles and presses a small kiss to the vee of Tom’s hip. He pushes himself up with slightly shaky arms and then removes and disposes of the condom. He crawls up the bed to trade a few chaste kisses with Tom and then says, “I’m going to grab you a Gatorade, okay?”

Tom hums sleepily at him and says, “Blue please.”

Nate gets them two bottles from the fridge and then swings by the bathroom on the way back to wet a washcloth with warm water. He carefully cleans Tom’s cock and his chest of Nate’s release before wiping himself down perfunctorily and tossing the cloth towards the hamper. He pulls Tom up a bit to shove a couple of pillows behind him to prop him up.

Tom goes easily with the movement, cracking his eyes open once he’s settled and says with a smile teasing at the corner of his lips, “Thanks, baby kangaroo.”

Nate tries to glare warningly, but he can’t get his face to do anything but smile at Tom’s completely blissed out expression. “Just see if I give you the Gatorade now,” he grumbles, trying to save face. His threat might be undermined by the way he settles next to Tom and draws the sheets up around them since Tom just chuckles and pulls Nate close under his arm.

They have their Gatorade cuddled together against the headboard and when they’re done Tom turns out the lamp beside the bed and maneuvers Nate into being the little spoon, tucked securely under Tom’s chin. It’s a small relief that after the sex they just had Tom will still casually manhandle him, because Nate is not so secretly addicted to it.

“Was that okay?” Nate asks. He’s pretty sure he knows the answer but wants to be sure. “Are you feeling okay?

“Yes, and yes. That was _incredible_,” Tom says softly.

Nate knows it’s cheesy as hell, but he still responds with the truth, “_You’re_ incredible.”

He can hear Tom’s pleased smile when he asks, “We’re doing that again, right? Like, a lot?”

“Definitely,” Nate says, his eyes closing contentedly. He’s so incredibly lucky to have ended up here. In bed with the hottest guy he’s ever seen, having just had the best sex he’s ever had, and with the promise that he can do it all over again.

He almost leaves it there but can’t resist adding, “And I promise I won’t invite Stevie next time.”


End file.
